


A Sunday Dance

by spacebuck



Category: Captain America, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Explicit Consent, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, au: ballet, bottom!Steve, bucky has a steve kink, dancer!Steve, dancing and dates, musician!Bucky, post-catws bucky, postserum steve, steve has a competency kink, that escalated quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:18:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebuck/pseuds/spacebuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, Bucky was Shield’s top musician. He spent hours upon hours in front of the piano, playing for others, playing for himself, composing, singing, pouring his heart and soul into the keys day in and day out. It was a position he’d lost temporarily, after the accident. A position he’d fought for again as soon as his physiotherapist had agreed to let him play again. A position he was proud of, one that was pretty much his dream job. </p><p>	But Shield wasn’t for musicians. Shield was a ballet company, and Steve? Steve was one of their principal dancers.</p><p>	So Bucky could watch all he liked, when Steve stretched and his tights pulled thin across his ass, or he flexed and every muscle stood out in high relief. But he wasn’t going to get anywhere, because Steve was so far out of Bucky’s league that it was almost funny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sunday Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/gifts).



> happy birthday to my darling nini, enjoy the au i've been promising for a while, sorry it's a tad late!

Bucky Barnes had a thing for men in tights.

 

                Well. Honestly, there was a little more to it than that.

 

                Bucky had a thing for one _particular_ man in tights. One man who had an ass that filled out his tights so damned well, and thighs that could probably kill. Coupled with a face from the heavens, shoulders wide enough to carry the world, and the tiniest fucking waist Bucky had ever seen on a man, Steve Rogers was a literal wet dream come to life.

 

                And he didn’t know Bucky existed.

 

                Again, not quite true. They’d smiled politely at each other when they passed in the halls, had even met once or twice outside of work, both invited for drinks by a mutual friend, Natasha, who worked with Steve, but that was the extent of their interaction. Which was almost a given, considering their rank difference in the company.

 

                Sure, Bucky was Shield’s top musician. He spent hours upon hours in front of the piano, playing for others, playing for himself, composing, singing, pouring his heart and soul into the keys day in and day out. It was a position he’d lost temporarily, after the accident. A position he’d fought for again as soon as his physiotherapist had agreed to let him play again. A position he was proud of, one that was pretty much his dream job.

 

                But Shield wasn’t for musicians. Shield was a ballet company, and Steve? Steve was one of their principal dancers.

 

                So Bucky could watch all he liked, when Steve stretched and his tights pulled thin across his ass, or he flexed and every muscle stood out in high relief. But he wasn’t going to get anywhere, because Steve was so far out of Bucky’s league that it was almost funny.

 

 

 

 

_ <unknown number>: Hey, James, I hate to ask this on your day off but would you be able to come into the studio for a couple of hours? The stereo just isn’t going to cut it at the moment._

 

                The request wasn’t unusual, not really. Bucky hadn’t gone a month without being called in by one dancer or another on a Sunday, and this month was no different.

 

                Bucky paused the movie he was watching and checked the time – eleven in the morning, not too bad. Pushing to his feet, he stretched slowly, then rolled his shoulders carefully. The plating of his prosthetic shifted and settled as he did, and he waited for it to quieten before relaxing, closing his laptop.

 

                < _Bucky >: sure, what’s the piece?_

 

                Bucky went into the bathroom as he waited for a reply, scrubbing his face with water and brushing his teeth. He wasn’t going to change, it was a Sunday, and if he wanted to wear jeans and a henley, no one was going to stop him. He just hoped that the person calling him in wasn’t one of the few that treated him like dirt, he wasn’t sure if he could handle that today without decking them.

 

                Checking his phone, he raised his eyebrows at the text and actually laughed, incredulous.

 

                _< unknown number>: can you sight read?_

 

                _< Bucky>: of course._

 

 

_ <unknown number>: I’ll see if I can find the sheet music then. Come in when you’re ready, I’ll be in the main practice room._

 

                That meant this was one of the principals, they were the only ones with after hours keys to that room. Bucky hoped to high hell that it wasn’t Genevieve, because that woman was nasty when she couldn’t get something right. Other than that, he had no preference. Well, he had a preference, but Steve had not once called him in on a Sunday, in the two years Bucky had been working there.

 

                Catching himself thinking about Steve _again_ , Bucky rattled his head before grabbing his bag, making sure he had everything he needed. Jamming his headphones in his ears, he headed out the door, sparing one last mournful look at his laptop as he did.

 

                The walk to the studio was short, Bucky had bought the apartment for that very reason. So ten minutes later he was unlocking the front door, heading into the near empty studio. Bucky could hear the sound of a stereo or two filtering out of the practice rooms as he passed them, but the main room was eerily quiet. Tapping lightly on the boor, Bucky frowned, wondering if he’d just been fucked over.

 

                “It’s open,” A voice rang out, muffled by the heavy door, and Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. There was no way in hell that was who it sounded like. No way in hell he was going to be stuck in a room for hours, alone with Steve Rogers.

 

                But when Bucky shouldered through the door, there he was, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, looking absolutely adorable in an oversized hoodie and trackpants, hair flopping in his face, making him look much younger than he was. Bucky wasn’t sure whether to cheer or cry.

 

                “Sorry to do this, James,” Steve said with an apologetic smile, pushing himself to his feet. “I know it’s your day off, but the secondary pianist massacred it last week, and can’t feel it properly with the stereo.”

 

                “I prefer Bucky, only Tasha calls me James. And, it’s fine,” Bucky demurred with a little smile and a shake of his head, walking towards the piano and dumping his bag beside it as Steve nodded at the correction. “It’s why you guys have my number.” The smile on Steve’s face faded just a little, but he spoke again before he could let himself dwell on that. “What makes you think I won’t do the same?”

 

                Steve raised his eyebrows at that, walking over to the stereo as he answered. “Because you’re _good_.” It was said so sincerely that Bucky had to bite his lip and glance away to stop his grin. “Helen’s good, yeah, but you-” Steve shook his head instead of finishing, bringing a stack of paper over to Bucky.

 

                He handed it over, and Bucky leafed through it, scanning it for anything overly complex as he sat on the piano stool. “Gimmie ten minutes and I’ll have something for you,” Bucky said distractedly, pushing aside everything else in favour of the music. He didn’t catch Steve’s reply, but the man walked away after a moment, so he assumed it had been an acceptance.

                Turning towards the piano, Bucky flipped up the cover and set the sheet music out, before starting to walk himself through it. His fingers hovered over the keys, never touching, as he let the lines on the paper lead him through the song Steve wanted. He played it through twice in his head, working out the best way for his fingers to hit each key, before finally dropping his hands to the ivory.

 

                He played it through twice more, aloud, and when he was happy with it, lifted his hands, turning to Steve. Who was watching him, mid-stretch, with something unreadable in his gaze.

 

                Bucky opened his mouth to ask, but Steve cut him off with a little smile, raising his eyebrows. “Good to go?”

 

                Bucky frowned slightly, but nodded, pulling his gaze away as Steve straightened. At some point in the last ten minutes, Steve had removed his trackpants, had cut down to his tights, and yeah, he looked as good as ever in them. Clearing his throat, Bucky rested his fingers on the keys, focusing on the paper in front of him so he wouldn’t get distracted.

 

                “When you’re ready,” came from behind him, and Bucky started to play, carefully working through the song as he listened to the beat of Steve’s feet on the hardwood. At a low part in the song, he couldn’t resist, glancing up at the mirror in front of him to see the dancing man behind him.

 

                Steve was gorgeous as he danced, hyperfocused as he flowed from step to step, body tense as he followed the choreography in his head. There was a long note, a drawn out beat in the music, and Steve’s eyes met Bucky’s in the mirror. There was a flare of something Bucky couldn’t place, and then he was looking down, back to the sheet music in front of him, breaking eye contact with a hard swallow. He looked up once more during the first play, and Steve’s eyes met his without hesitation, before the dance had him turning.

 

                As they worked through the piece over and over, it kept happening, and Bucky was powerless to stop it. He got more and more comfortable with the piece, and spent more and more time watching Steve. If Steve wasn’t looking at him in the mirror, he was looking at him directly. More than once, Bucky caught Steve staring at Bucky, but he refused to think about why.

 

During the tenth runthrough of the piece, Bucky’s eyes met Steve’s again in the mirror. This time, instead of letting the dance pull his gaze away, Steve stopped, relaxing onto the flats of his feet. Bucky finished the bar he was playing, letting the music trail off as Steve held his gaze.

 

                In the space of a breath, Steve was crossing the floor, and Bucky blinked back the bubble of _oh shit this was happening_. He turned, swinging his legs over the seat so he could face Steve properly, and then Steve was crowding into his space.

 

                “Now would be a really great time to tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” Steve murmured as he leaned in until their noses were touching, and Bucky swallowed hard. He wanted so badly to just grab Steve’s shoulders and close the distance, but he flexed his fingers on the edge of the stool instead. He had to be sure, wasn’t going to take the chance and make a fool of himself, not now.

 

                “What-” He swallowed, mouth dry, and tried again. “What are you reading?”

 

                “That you’re interested. In me.”

 

                “I’d have to be blind and stupid _not_ to be.”

 

                That seemed to be all Steve had been waiting for, because he was closing the distance before Bucky had even finished speaking. Bucky leaned in to meet him, and Steve let out a soft sigh as their lips met. Bucky gave in, palming Steve’s shoulders and pulling him in. Steve went a step further, pressing a hand to Bucky’s chest and nudging him backwards before straddling Bucky’s thighs as Bucky deepened the kiss. Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist to steady him, cupping Steve’s neck with the other  
                They only parted when a door slammed shut, Steve’s head shooting up in surprise. Both of them glanced at the door, but it was still firmly closed. Steve turned back to Bucky, and Bucky raised an eyebrow, as if asking _what now?_

 

                Steve leaned in again, kissed him soft and slow, before giving him an almost indulgent smile, squeezing his knees around Bucky’s hips. “I wanna take you out, treat you right,” Steve murmured, and that was better than Bucky had even thought to hope for.

 

                “I also kinda want you to fuck me stupid.”

 

                Bucky blinked, mouth falling open slightly, and Steve laughed, low and dark. “Yeah, looks like you’re on board for that,” Steve drawled, before leaning in to kiss Bucky filthily. When he pulled back, he caught Bucky’s chin to stop him from closing the gap again, smirk in place. “I’ll tell ya what,” he murmured, and bumped their noses together lightly. “I’m gonna finish this dance, we’re gonna go out for dinner, and then we’ll see if you can convince me about the other one, yeah?”

 

                Bucky nodded slightly, leaning in and pressing his lips to Steve’s lightly. Then he pulled back, slipped his hand down to cup Steve’s ass. “Better get dancing then,” he said with a grin, and, pushing his luck, squeezed slightly.

 

                Steve laughed, rolling his eyes, and pushed to his feet, Bucky’s hands dropping to Steve’s hips to steady him. Steve leaned in, kissed Bucky again, before pulling back, walking back to the centre of the room.

 

                After watching him go for a moment, Bucky twisted to face the piano again, testing a note lightly before starting from the top.

 

 

 

 

 

                Hours later, Bucky wasn’t entirely convinced he hadn’t dreamed the whole thing. Standing in his apartment, staring at his closet, he finally gave in and text Natasha.

 

                _< Bucky>: as long as I’m not hallucinating, I have a date tonight, and I need outfit help._

 

                Natasha’s reply was almost immediate, and consisted only of several winking emojis.

 

                _< Bucky>: I’m serious._

 

_ <Tasha>: Is it an ‘I have to do this’ date or an ‘I wanna get laid’ date?_

 

_ <Bucky>: If I don’t get him in bed I’m gonna be disappointed. But I also want a second date._

 

Bucky watched the little dots at the bottom of his screen blink for a moment, then disappear. He sighed softly, flopping back onto his bed, and watched it appear and disappear for a moment. He was half tempted to tell her who it was, but he didn’t want to jinx it for himself. But hell, he _really_ wanted to look good for Steve.

 

                _< Tasha>: wear the black jeans you wore on my birthday and that grey shirt, you know the one, the sex shirt. Black jacket. I expect details tomorrow x_ _x_

 

                Bucky snorted at that, sent her back a winking emoji, before pulling out her suggested clothes, and, yeah. Okay. She was good. He swept his hair to the side, and shoved his stuff in his pockets. He checked his phone one last time before heading out, locking the door behind him.

 

                Reaching the small restaurant, Bucky glanced around, and spotted Steve heading towards him down the street. He grinned, waved, and then stared a bit, because if Steve was hot in his dancing gear, he was absolutely _stunning_ when he cleaned himself up.

 

                “Holy shit,” he murmured as Steve drew near, and Steve laughed softly, eyes tracking down Bucky, then back up.

 

                “Holy shit, yourself,” He returned with a smile, before stepping in closer and catching Bucky’s hips. Bucky let himself be tugged forward, smiled at the light kiss, then raised an eyebrow.

 

                “Wanna go in?”

 

                Bucky nodded slightly, grinning as Steve took his hand and led him into the restaurant. Once they were seated, Bucky leaned forward, setting his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand, just looking at Steve for a long moment. Steve gave him a curious look, so Bucky said what was on his mind, eyes flicking down to the table between them.

 

                “Honestly? I didn’t realise you were …” Bucky waved a hand at himself, wry smile on his face. “Aware I existed?”

 

                Steve’s eyebrows went up at that, then he covered his mouth as a short laugh escaped, and Bucky winced. Immediately, Steve was holding out his hands, catching Bucky’s hand. “No no no not like that, _God_ ,” he said quickly, and Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.

 

                “I uh, God I didn’t think you were into men?” Steve said, covering his face as he flushed.

 

                “How would you know if you never spoke to me?” Bucky said after a moment, raising his eyebrows.

 

                “I’m not… exactly subtle. When I want something.” Steve said after a moment, looking at Bucky over his fingers. “I would have made a move, and if you hadn’t been interested… and then after your accident…”

 

                Bucky laughed softly, shaking his head slightly, and Steve gave a wry smile. “I’m a coward, I’ll admit,” Steve said with a shake of his head, and Bucky kicked a leg out, bumping Steve’s foot with his.

 

                “Nah, just a bit slow on the uptake,” Bucky teased, and Steve laughed, and Bucky grinned. “C’mon, enough about that,” Bucky said after a moment, mollified. “Tell me, how long have you been dancing?”

 

                “You didn’t research all of the dancers when you were hired?” Steve said with a grin, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

 

                “Is that your way of asking if I googled you?” Bucky drawled, and Steve laughed, rolling his eyes.

 

                “Jerk, no!”

 

                “Well, _punk_ , even if I did,” which he had, but he wasn’t going to admit that, “I’d rather hear it from you.”

 

                The conversation flowed easily from there, barely pausing when their food arrived, and eventually, Steve glanced at his phone, laughing softly when he saw the time.

 

                “They’re gonna kick us out soon Buck, they close in ten minutes,” he said at Bucky’s curious noise, and Bucky checked his watch.

 

                “Yeah, we better get going,” he said with a smile, pushing to his feet, pleased when Steve just nodded and followed suit. They settled their bill, Bucky refusing to let Steve pay for the whole thing, and headed out, both of them tugging their jackets closed to ward off the chill.

 

                “Do you wanna come back to my place for coffee?” Bucky asked before he could chicken out, pushing his hair out of his face and trying not to seem overeager.

 

                Steve stepped forward, into his space, and caught Bucky’s jaw, drawing him in for a kiss. “More than just coffee if you play your cards right,” he murmured, and Bucky couldn’t help but grin.

 

                He caught Steve’s hand, smiling when Steve linked their fingers, and they headed back to Bucky’s, Steve bringing up their last point of discussion and their conversation picking up easily.

 

                When they reached Bucky’s building he dropped Steve’s hand to fish out his keys, only to have Steve crowd up behind him, hands landing on Bucky’s hips. Steve dropped his mouth to the back of Bucky’s neck, and he nibbled at the skin there, and Bucky had to fight a groan. Steve kept nibbling, and Bucky fumbled with his keys, before finally getting the door open.

 

                Catching Steve’s hip, Bucky let Steve walk them inside, closing the door behind him before stepping away. “C’mon,” he breathed, catching Steve’s hand and leading him to the stairs. They kept minimal contact on the way up, but when Bucky stopped in front of his door, Steve was pressed against him again, this time tugging on his earlobe with his teeth.

 

                Bucky nearly dropped his keys twice before managing to get the door open, before turning and closing it with Steve’s body against the wood. He leaned up, pressing his lips to Steve’s, and stepped in close, lining their bodies up, leaning his hips into Steve’s. Steve groaned into his mouth, soft and short, before curling his fingers in Bucky’s hair, kissing him back hard.

 

                When Bucky pulled back, panting, he took a moment to just look at Steve, grinning open-mouthed at him, and Steve returned the grin, before leaning back in and murmuring “I know you’ve got a bed in this place.”

 

                Bucky hooked his fingers in Steve’s belt loops, tugged him to his bedroom. Steve took over, nudging Bucky up onto the bed and straddling his hips, leaning in to kiss him soundly before murmuring “Is this okay?”

 

                At Bucky’s noise of confusion, Steve pushed up, planting his hands on Bucky’s chest to stop him from following. “Do you want this? You’re not just going along with it because _I_ want it?”

 

                Bucky snorted, catching Steve’s hips and squeezing slightly. “Yeah, I want this. Wanted it for a while… _God_ watching you dance was as painful as it was beautiful,” he said with a  little smile, and Steve dropped down again, nuzzling his lips against Bucky’s.

 

                “Just like watching you play is,” he murmured, before kissing Bucky before he could protest at the comparison. Then Steve rolled his hips against Bucky’s, and Bucky wasn’t thinking about protesting anymore. He twisted, taking advantage of the extra strength provided by his prosthetic to dump Steve on his back, settling between the other man’s legs.

 

                “You don’t mind this?” Bucky asked softly, walking the metal digits down Steve’s chest, and Steve immediately shook his head.

 

                “It’s hot as fuck,” Steve breathed, and Bucky couldn’t help but grin, shoving Steve’s jacket off before tugging at Steve’s shirt as the other man wrestled with his sleeves. As Steve yanked his jacket off fully, then his shirt over his head, Bucky sat up and pulled his own jacket off, hesitating at the edge of his shirt.

 

                “You’re gorgeous,” Steve murmured, placing a hand over Bucky’s. “No matter what.”

 

                Bucky grit his teeth, meeting Steve’s gaze for a moment, then tugged the fabric over his head, throwing it to the side. Immediately, Steve’s hands were on his skin, tracing edges of muscle and lines of scarring with identical care before pulling Bucky down to kiss him again. “Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Steve breathed against his mouth before kissing him senseless, and Bucky too the opportunity to get his hands all over Steve in turn.

 

                When Bucky finally tugged Steve’s pants off, he was distracted by Steve’s flushed cock, not even trying to get his own jeans off before he was leaning forward, licking the flushed skin of Steve’s stomach before taking Steve’s dick down in one go. Steve moaned, curling his fingers into Bucky’s hair, and Bucky pulled up only to murmur “Under the pillow,” before taking him down again, running his tongue over the underside as he did, sucking firmly.

 

                Bucky held out a hand, and the bottle of lube he’d left under his pillow was pressed into it, Steve’s legs parting eagerly in anticipation. Without lifting his head, Bucky uncapped it, spread some of the gel on his fingers, and worked his right hand between Steve’s legs, rubbing lightly over Steve’s hole.

 

                Steve moaned loudly in response, pressing back against Bucky, and in return Bucky gave him what he wanted, inching the top of a finger into Steve. He kept sucking, bobbing his head evenly, pulling back to lick over Steve’s dick as he worked his finger deeper, before holding his hand still, letting Steve adjust, nearly moaning at the way Steve’s ass gripped him. It wasn’t long before Steve was shifting, pleading, and Bucky started to move, pumping the digit carefully, adding a second when Steve started to whine for more.

                

                He scissored his fingers, slowly stretching Steve out, and just as Steve started to relax around the intrusion, curled his fingers, dragging them down until Steve jerked, and whimpered. Bucky pressed his fingers down again to make sure, and got the same reaction, so he rubbed Steve’s prostate firmly as he sucked, alternating between light touches, tapping, and hard rubs until Steve was sobbing.

 

                And Bucky kept pushing, kept sucking, as the sobs turned to whimpers, and he felt Steve’s cock jerk in his mouth. He sucked hard, eyes flicking up to Steve’s and Steve was gone, arching up after such careful control, cock hitting the back of Bucky’s throat as he came, and came hard.

 

                Bucky sucked him through it carefully, pulling off when Steve’s whimpers turned pained, and withdrew his fingers slowly, before crawling back up to kiss Steve.

 

                “God,” Steve choked out as their lips parted, and Bucky huffed a laugh, kissing him again before Steve mumbled, “You’re lucky I can go more than once, because I’m not leaving ‘til you’ve fucked me.”

 

 

 

                The next morning was a rush, Steve scrambling to get everything of his before darting out the door with a quick kiss. Bucky smiled as he watched, knowing full well that Steve had an earlier call than he did, then stretched, heading out to make himself coffee.

 

                He got to work not long after Steve did, early for once, and grinned at Nat when she stopped him at the door with a “So, gimmie the details!”

 

                Bucky sipped his coffee, raised an eyebrow, then let his gaze wander to Steve at the other end of the hall, who was, predictably, the butt of a number of friendly jokes as he walked with a hitch in his step, one that Bucky was more than just a little proud of.

 

                “It was good, we’re going out again later in the week,” he drawled, and Nat snorted.

 

                “Good to see you’ve finally got over your crush on Steve,” she teased quietly, and Bucky raised his eyebrows.

 

                “You could say that,” He snickered, and Nat’s eyes narrowed, before she turned and looked down the hall, eyes locking onto Steve. “Got over him indeed. Over him, in him, all the ways that matter.”

 

                Nat punched his shoulder with a huff, before hissing “Don’t fuck this up.”

 

                And yeah, he wasn’t planning on it. Not when Steve Rogers, principal dancer, was also Steve Rogers, boyfriend.

                

                How about that.

**Author's Note:**

> cry with me on [tumblr](http://brickhousebuck.tumblr.com)


End file.
